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Authors: Mary Burton
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his needs well. He moved to the curtains and pushed them back. As promised, his room overlooked the pool, which now hosted a young couple with two small children splashing around the shallow end.
Seeing the kids tugged at the knots in his back. He thought about his own wife and daughter. God, but he missed them.
Raines flipped open his phone, checked messages, and played a message from his wife.
“Hey, baby, happy birthday.” From the background his daughter’s giggling rose up like a blooming flower. She started to sing “Happy Birthday” and his wife, laughing, joined in. He closed his eyes and listened as they danced through the song. “We miss you,” they said. “Come home soon.”
He closed the phone and pressed it to his temple. He should be with them. Only an insane man would fly across the country and chase a killer that no one else remembered but him. But if anyone understood his need to catch this guy, it was his wife, Susan. She understood he’d always be a cop and that being a cop was more than a job.
“It’s not your nature to give up,” she’d said so often. “It’s why I married you, after all.”
He checked his watch and subtracted two hours. Susan would be getting Tara off to school now. She’d be rushed. Distracted. Tara would be sitting at the kitchen table nibbling on her toast and taking far too long to eat. He smiled. Now wasn’t the best time to call.
He’d give anything to be there.
“I’ll catch this guy, Susan. I’ll catch him and then it will be over just like I promised.”
Chapter 6
Tuesday, May 21, 9:45 AM
Lara sat on the stone hearth next to the cold fireplace and buried her face in her hands. Her heart drummed so loudly she was certain it would crack through her ribs.
She’d told Beck she read the papers. What she hadn’t told him was that these last seven years she read the local papers from cover to cover searching for signs that the Strangler had resurfaced. She’d read about dozens of murdered women over the years, and each time she’d paused to pray for the soul wrenched from this earth.
She closed her eyes and whispered, “Lou Ellen and Gretchen, God bless you.”
After several moments of silence, Lincoln nuzzled her hand with his nose and looked up at her as if he was worried. She summoned a smile and scratched him between his ears. “It’s okay, boy. I’m just fine. Only a little rattled by that guy.”
That guy was a Texas Ranger. She didn’t know a lot about Texas or even being Texan, but she’d gleaned enough to know that the Texas Rangers tackled some of the nastiest and toughest cases in the state. They weren’t people to go against. The fact that Sergeant Beck had shown up on her land suggested that this case, and especially that Ranger, weren’t going away.
Even without the hat and the badge, Beck would have put her on edge. A six-foot-six frame coupled with broad shoulders and a lean, muscled body intimidated without a single word spoken. Cutting ice green eyes combined with steel under his Texas drawl had had her struggling not to lock herself inside her cabin.
She shoved out a breath and straightened. Just because two women had been murdered within thirty miles of her didn’t mean the Strangler had returned. Those two women, like most, probably had known their attackers. She’d read all the statistics. Random acts of violence, as she’d suffered, were indeed rare. Most women were killed by men they knew or, worse, loved.
The man who’d attacked her was not in Texas because the odds that he had come to Austin were astronomical.
Beck’s extremely male appraisal had her smoothing nervous hands over her jeans. Worse still, a deep, deep part of her had been intrigued and pleased.
There’d been a time when she’d loved the scent and feel of a man. Confident and self-assured, she’d never been afraid to ask a man to dance or to join her for a cup of coffee. But for the last seven years, she walked wide circles around
Seeing the kids tugged at the knots in his back. He thought about his own wife and daughter. God, but he missed them.
Raines flipped open his phone, checked messages, and played a message from his wife.
“Hey, baby, happy birthday.” From the background his daughter’s giggling rose up like a blooming flower. She started to sing “Happy Birthday” and his wife, laughing, joined in. He closed his eyes and listened as they danced through the song. “We miss you,” they said. “Come home soon.”
He closed the phone and pressed it to his temple. He should be with them. Only an insane man would fly across the country and chase a killer that no one else remembered but him. But if anyone understood his need to catch this guy, it was his wife, Susan. She understood he’d always be a cop and that being a cop was more than a job.
“It’s not your nature to give up,” she’d said so often. “It’s why I married you, after all.”
He checked his watch and subtracted two hours. Susan would be getting Tara off to school now. She’d be rushed. Distracted. Tara would be sitting at the kitchen table nibbling on her toast and taking far too long to eat. He smiled. Now wasn’t the best time to call.
He’d give anything to be there.
“I’ll catch this guy, Susan. I’ll catch him and then it will be over just like I promised.”
Chapter 6
Tuesday, May 21, 9:45 AM
Lara sat on the stone hearth next to the cold fireplace and buried her face in her hands. Her heart drummed so loudly she was certain it would crack through her ribs.
She’d told Beck she read the papers. What she hadn’t told him was that these last seven years she read the local papers from cover to cover searching for signs that the Strangler had resurfaced. She’d read about dozens of murdered women over the years, and each time she’d paused to pray for the soul wrenched from this earth.
She closed her eyes and whispered, “Lou Ellen and Gretchen, God bless you.”
After several moments of silence, Lincoln nuzzled her hand with his nose and looked up at her as if he was worried. She summoned a smile and scratched him between his ears. “It’s okay, boy. I’m just fine. Only a little rattled by that guy.”
That guy was a Texas Ranger. She didn’t know a lot about Texas or even being Texan, but she’d gleaned enough to know that the Texas Rangers tackled some of the nastiest and toughest cases in the state. They weren’t people to go against. The fact that Sergeant Beck had shown up on her land suggested that this case, and especially that Ranger, weren’t going away.
Even without the hat and the badge, Beck would have put her on edge. A six-foot-six frame coupled with broad shoulders and a lean, muscled body intimidated without a single word spoken. Cutting ice green eyes combined with steel under his Texas drawl had had her struggling not to lock herself inside her cabin.
She shoved out a breath and straightened. Just because two women had been murdered within thirty miles of her didn’t mean the Strangler had returned. Those two women, like most, probably had known their attackers. She’d read all the statistics. Random acts of violence, as she’d suffered, were indeed rare. Most women were killed by men they knew or, worse, loved.
The man who’d attacked her was not in Texas because the odds that he had come to Austin were astronomical.
Beck’s extremely male appraisal had her smoothing nervous hands over her jeans. Worse still, a deep, deep part of her had been intrigued and pleased.
There’d been a time when she’d loved the scent and feel of a man. Confident and self-assured, she’d never been afraid to ask a man to dance or to join her for a cup of coffee. But for the last seven years, she walked wide circles around
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